


we could be immortals

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Death Note (Movies), Death Note: Light Up The New World
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Kira Wins, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-30
Updated: 2016-11-30
Packaged: 2018-09-03 08:27:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8705035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: Ten years after the original Death Note murders, a new Kira arises. And he wins, with the help of a familiar mass murderer and his newly crowned worshipper.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of the popular "Kira Wins" AU combined with the fan theory that Light Up the New World's Ryuzaki was actually a movieverse version of Beyond Birthday.

Ryuzaki knows how to wait. He can be patient. Living in Wammy’s House, playing games that amounted to ultimately nothing, sliding in and out of trouble as naturally as breathing, he learned to understand the beauty of waiting for the perfect moment. Together, they had lain plains intricate enough to backfire at any moment and yet simplistic enough that all Ryuzaki had to do was move the pieces on the chessboard at just the right moment and everything would turn out beautifully for all three of them.  _ Three. _ He doesn’t know how he feels about it being  _ three _ of them.

 

Not that he questions Mishima. The two of them had worked in tandem for the better part of a year, searching for the perfect person and planning the right moment. Six notebooks would yield them an ultimate power, the most power they could possibly have at one moment. The atmosphere of the world in which those notebooks would come to be was just as important.

 

“How is he?” Mishima asks from the front seat, white knuckling the steering wheel.

 

The question is answered by a hum as Ryuzaki moves the folded clump of his scarf away from Shien’s shoulder, examining the wound there. Of course, a battle such as this was going to end with casualties, and even though Ryuzaki’s careful planning had left the riot squad and the Task Force dead before they could put the pieces together, Shien had still been shot.

 

His eyes dart upward above the young man’s head, scanning the numbers there, satisfying himself there is absolutely nothing wrong. Shien might be in pain for some time, and he will need time to heal, but he has a long life ahead of them; they all do. Ryuzaki can even see his own lifespan; his Eyes are his own and therefore there are no strings attached to them.

 

“He’ll be just fine,” he reassures Mishima. “Just keep driving. His numbers are fine.”

 

The cat and mouse game has at least  _ interested _ him where Shien is concerned, and this close he can admire that Mishima did choose a pretty young man to accompany them as they remake the world in their image. He’s pale from blood loss, but his skin is naturally fair and the pale ensembles he favors only add to that image. Ghostly, a phantom of righteousness who probably rejoiced to have something as dark and demented as a Death Note fall into his waiting hands. That, Ryuzaki wishes he had been able to see. The man’s fascination— his  _ fanaticism— _ with Kira had been what solidified him as their choice, and he can only begin to imagine how Shien reacted when he realized that not only was he chosen to carry a Death Note, he was chosen to carry  _ the _ Death Note that had once belonged to Light Yagami over ten years ago.

 

Shien’s breath hitches and Ryuzaki eases up the pressure on his shoulder, soothes his hair from his forehead and brushes his fingertips over cool skin until Shien calms and relaxes into the seat of the car. He’d lost consciousness, most likely from shock and pain than anything else. The wound is not a fatal one, already clotting, and Ryuzaki has dealt with them before, so he can make sure Shien recovers as quickly and efficiently as possible. It’s a neat wound, too, with an equally neat exit. No pieces of metal lodged into his skin to cause an infection.

 

“You can attend to him, I assume?” Mishima asks, and the subtle change in his voice is pleasing enough that Ryuzaki smiles around the gruff tone. This is a voice he knows much better than the one of the seeming detective intent on saving the world no matter the cost. When he lifts his head enough to nod, Mishima sighs and relaxes. “Good. Thank you. You did a fantastic job.”

 

He preens under the praise, as he always had. Being a child of Wammy’s House had done nothing for him; living under the shadow of L Lawliet had left a bitter taste in his mouth. Better to work with someone who understands and appreciates the brilliance he has always shown.

 

They had prepared somewhere to lay low for a few weeks while the world reeled from the recent news, a house tucked away into the hills where the three of them could breathe and settle on how they were going to use their newfound power. Despite Mishima insisting they had everything they needed, Ryuzaki had been the one to push for making sure there were medical supplies waiting for them should they need them. He’s glad he did, now, as he hooks his fingers in the torn, bloody fabric and rips a wider hole so he can examine the bullet wound a little more closely. Shien shifts, his lips parting for a moment before he relaxes once again, and Ryuzaki is careful as he studies the wound, cautious not to touch too much. It occurs to him he might need this moment when Shien awakens; any incarnation of Kira would be reluctant to work with a murderer.

 

“Ryuzaki.” Mishima’s voice sounds again and Ryuzaki lifts his head, meeting the man’s eyes in the rearview mirror. “When we get there, you take the keys to unlock the door. I’ll carry him inside.”

 

“Of course.” Ryuzaki half-smiles before returning to his examination.

 

Mishima speaks quickly and without pause, his mind already whirring now that it’s been set back on its proper path. “I don’t see how anyone will be able to find us,” he says. “No one was there but us. Everyone else is dead. You’d better be glad that Arma liked you so much.”

 

Ryuzaki clicks his tongue at the words but otherwise does not acknowledge them; they had been lucky that Ryuk took such a liking to Shien, too, but Shien is more like Yagami and so it makes sense in its own way. After all, he had been talked into assisting them because Yagami wanted to make sure he had someone to cement his legacy and continue in his footsteps when he came to his inevitable end. He’d chosen Mishima, and Mishima had enlisted Ryuzaki’s help. The machinations it took to break him out of prison unseen had been a pain in the ass.

 

“How serious is the wound? What will you have to do to assist him?” Mishima asks, and he actually glances over his shoulder, revealing the true strain in his dark eyes. Let it never be said that Kira is a heartless creature; Ryuzaki knows that to be false all too well.

 

“I’ll have to clean and pack the wound. We have painkillers I can force down his throat to make sure he sleeps.” Ryuzaki strokes a hand through Shien’s hair tenderly; this young man has known more than enough pain in his short life. “It’s a very clean wound. He’ll be fine, Tsukuru.”

 

The use of his first name seems to calm Mishima somewhat and Ryuzaki stretches his hand out, running his fingers down the side of the man’s face. “We are  _ all _ fine,” he murmurs, letting his voice drop, watching Mishima relax further. “Now focus on the road.”

 

The rest of the trip is relatively silent, Mishima occasionally murmuring to himself while Ryuzaki monitors Shien’s wound and, more importantly, Shien himself. His color returns with time, and though he shifts a bit and twitches occasionally, he remains unconscious, which is preferable. By the time they reach their safe house, Shien has not woken up. Ryuzaki ties his scarf around Shien’s shoulder securely and retrieves Mishima’s keys, allowing the larger man to attend to their wounded third while he unlocks the front door.

 

They lack an operating table but he sterilizes the unused kitchen table quickly enough and they have Shien laid upon its surface within minutes, stripped of his shirt. The blood is dark against his pale skin and Ryuzaki busies himself with cleaning it away, careful not to aggravate the wound. If Mishima looks at more than just the bullet wound, Ryuzaki doesn’t notice.

 

He monitors Shien’s breathing as he packs the wound and wraps his shoulder, running over the extensive medical knowledge filling his mind, satisfied with his work. Mishima catches him around the waist when he’s washing his hands in the sink after, presses a kiss to the side of his neck.

 

“Stop that.” Ryuzaki flaps a hand in his direction, splashes little droplets of water on his face before drying his hands on the dish towel he’d used to dry them before he dared touch Shien’s wound. The kitchen smells of antiseptic and blood, and though the scents would be off-putting to someone else, it doesn’t bother him. “I’ll give him something to help him sleep.”

 

Mishima spirits Shien away upstairs as soon as Ryuzaki gives him permission and if Ryuzaki bristles a little, so be it. He’s packing up the medical supplies when Ryuk slowly slides free from the ceiling, landing next to him with a flutter of feathers.  _ “Having fun playing house?” _

 

“It was the plan,” Ryuzaki answers shortly. The dark shinigami had never interested him.

 

He locks up the house before following upstairs, finding the guest room where Mishima is tucking Shien into bed with ease; it’s the only room currently lit. Ryuzaki hovers in the doorway, watching the two of them, noting the color fully returned to Shien’s cheeks and the relaxed shape of his brow. The painkillers are strong, strong enough to make sure he gets through the night with little movement so as not to aggravate his shoulder in his sleep. After all, Ryuzaki doesn’t have to  _ like _ him to make sure he’s well taken care of. He was chosen by Kira, and that distinction is one that merits excellent treatment regardless of personal feelings.

 

Mishima catches him watching and straightens up, offering him a hand, a peace offering of sorts because he must see what Ryuzaki has been careful to hide. Hiding anything from him has been impossible; it was how the two of them went from being merely partners on a mission together to something more, something Yagami likely would not have been surprised about. Ryuzaki rounds the end of the bed and takes the hand offered to him, lets himself be reeled into Mishima’s arms, against his chest— he’s belonged right here since the first moment Mishima held him.

 

“Thank you for taking care of him. I’m sure he’ll be very grateful when he wakes up in the morning not lying in a pool of his own congealed blood.” Mishima brushes his hair back off of his face and Ryuzaki closes his eyes, leaning into the touch. Tenderness had been something he lost in that prison cell; it’s been a decade and he’s still adjusting. “He might not understand at first, but we’ll make him understand one way or another. He trusts Kira. He’ll trust me.”

 

Ryuzaki says nothing, needs not say anything, merely remains quiet and nods, lets his head fall against Mishima’s chest as the weight of the evening falls upon him. They had done the impossible. Mishima losing his memories had been a risk they were willing to gamble, one to start the world anew, one that they were not one hundred percent sure would pay off its dividends, and yet it had. There was no way to predict Shien’s injury, but it had been dealt with easily enough and now Ryuzaki finally feels he can breathe. Near had never suspected him. L is dead. The Task Force is no more. There are no clues left to trace them to this location.

 

They leave Shien in peace and Mishima leads him down the hallway toward the bedroom that had been chosen as theirs the moment they secured the house. The warmth is secondary to the sensation of falling asleep with his head tucked beneath Mishima’s chin once again.

 

_ Kira had won. _ And now they would all reap the rewards.


End file.
